Scarlet tiger moths flutter around the house in the early evening, weaving a spell of midsummer. The air they move through is filled with the scent of mock orange; a heady concoction, filled with memories of summers past.
In the depths of the shady end of the garden the wild strawberries are ripening; fairy fruits to add to the mix. Glimpses of red in the undergrowth to match the flashes of scarlet underwings as the moths flit overhead.
Our daily walks have become vespertine – the lengthening days making us linger outdoors too long. But who wants to go inside when there are wildflowers to admire in the warmth of the golden hour, followed by the bats’ first flights at dusk? And when there’s a first quarter moon that glows with such luminosity? And when Venus sparkles suddenly, appearing as if from nowhere; a precious pin of light.
After all, the days will now slowly begin to shorten again.